


Arse Jig

by Prodigalsan



Series: Spare Fics [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Also fluff and humor and crack, Completely unrelated to my ongoing work, Did I already mention that?, M/M, Oh wait I do, Slightly OOC I guess?, Stupid best friends influencing my writing, Stupid songs too, idk why i wrote this, jsyk, super crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5005288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigalsan/pseuds/Prodigalsan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, don’t be silly! We decided to move the meeting to later this afternoon. We were pretty sure that you needed a bit of rest, considering what happened last night at the tavern.”</p><p>The blond Inquisitor blinked at her. “Last night? Tavern? What do you mean, Lady Leliana?”</p><p>--</p><p>U’Din wakes up to a huge headache one morning and realizes that he had done something the night before, and it involved a certain elf hedge mage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arse Jig

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Not Beta'd, and Not Related to my on-going series "The Spare."

U’Din woke up with the worst headache ever. It was worse than the one he had waking up to one of Ellana’s “accidental” mind blasts. Or to Mahanon’s sickly sweet voice. Ugh, thinking about those things made his headache even worse. It also didn’t help that his mouth felt dry; he needed something to drink. But that meant getting out of bed.

He groaned and crawled out of his bed—literally. Fortunately, the bed Vivienne forced him to purchase had fixtures on it that he could hold onto for leverage. He reminded himself to thank her later. The blond elf got out of bed, then reached for the pitcher on his desk. He poured some water into the glass beside it and cooled it a bit with his magic. As he drank, he looked out the balcony to gauge what time it was.

His eyes widened, and he spat out the water in his mouth. The sun was already up high in the sky, meaning he had overslept. And missed a meeting with his advisors. _Shit_! The shems were going to _kill_ him!

 _‘Fuck, fuck, fuck—‘_ He chanted as he quickly got out of his bed cloths and into his regular, Skyhold outfit. His head throbbed painfully from the hectic movements, but he forced himself to carry on. He needed to get out of here and into the War Room _fast_. Who knows what they could be discussing now?

He put on his boots and sprinted towards the stairs. He jumped over the railing to get to the bottom of the stairs faster, and he was about to open the door when—

“Oh! Inquisitor!” Leliana appeared in front of him, a slightly blurry vision of purple, grey and orange-red. He was able to make out a smile on her face, though he doubted that it was as wide as he thought it was. “I see you that you are awake. Are you well?”

U’Din played with the ponytail hanging on his right and looked at the floor guiltily. “I’m sorry for sleeping in, Lady Leliana. I had a huge headache, but I guess that’s not really an excuse—“

“Oh, don’t be silly! We decided to move the meeting to later this afternoon. We were pretty sure that you needed a bit of rest, considering what happened last night at the tavern.”

The blond Inquisitor blinked at her. “Last night? _Tavern_? What do you mean, Lady Leliana?”

He was sure that he _must_ have been seeing things again, but he could have sworn that he saw the Spymaster look shocked and then, not even five seconds later, very, _very_ amused. She hid her mouth behind a hand and looked away.

“Oh, you don’t remember. I... see.” She said. Or did she just snort? U’Din must have heard wrong because Lady Leliana would _never_ do that. Right? “Well, I guess you’ll remember. Eventually. But I suppose you’re quite hungry, no? It’s way past noon already.”

Normally, U’Din would have been glad at the thought of food, and he truly was famished. But suddenly his stomach pulled, twisted and turned, then something... something was trying to come out of his mouth. He covered his mouth with his hands and rushed up the stairs in the form of a breezy, blue blur. Leliana’s cries of concern were ignored as he rushed to puke in a conveniently-placed bucket near his washroom.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, Willow! Thought we’d never see you come out of your room.” Varric spoke from his seat at one of the long tables. U’Din noticed that Dorian and Blackwall were there, too. “Come, grab a chair and eat! You must be hungry.”

Dorian chuckled behind a goblet. “He should be, after all that’s happened last night.”

“Maker’s balls, _why_ did you have to remind me?!” The bearded warrior dropped his utensils on the table and shook his head forlornly. He shuddered. “It took me all morning to get that out of my head. But now it’s back. Thanks a _lot_ , Dorian.”

The Tevinter mage smiled charmingly in the warrior’s direction. “You are _very_ much welcome my, dear, dear friend!”

“ _Ugh_.”

The blond overheard their conversation and couldn’t help but be confused. Were they talking about... him? What did he do? “Um, what are you three talking about? Did I do something last night?”

At first, his companions looked at him in silence. And then Dorian did that “evil magister laugh” that Sera kept making fun of.

“Oh, oh, this is _priceless_! He doesn’t recall! _Splendid_!” Dorian cried in glee, placing the goblet down and wiping a tear from his eye. “Ah, that made my afternoon. Thank  you very much, Inquisitor. I do hope you never change!”

U’Din blinked. “Um—“

“Hey, come on. Give the poor guy a break.” Varric chastised the Tevinter mage, though he himself had a grin on his face. “After drinking that awful bilge Tiny kept pouring in his tankard, I’m surprised he’s still alive.”

“Mmyes. One should rejoice knowing that the Inquisitor has, once again, escaped imminent death.” Dorian replied humorously, nodding to himself sagely. “Yes, yes, that _does_ make perfect sense. Thank you for helping me see reason, good Master Tethras.”

“Pleased to be of help, Master Pavus!” The dwarf chuckled.

The blond elf became even more confused, and that bemusement made his headache even worse. He sat down and looked at them earnestly. “Did I—Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m really sorry. I hope—“

“Ah, ah! What did I say about apologizing too much, U’Din?” Dorian tutted at him with a matching finger wave. “You did nothing wrong. In fact, I’d say for some people it might have been... hm, how would you gentlemen describe it? Awe-inspiring? Educational? Oh, I know! Plea—“

“Or we can just _not_ describe it. Or even talk about it. _Period_.” Blackwall interjected, looking more queasy than U’Din did in that moment. “I do _not_ want that stuck in my head ever again! Have mercy!”

Varric snickered. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t. But it _was_ hilarious.” He leaned close and shared a conspiring look with Dorian. “I mean, did you see the look on Chuckles’ face? I didn’t know he could show so much emotion!!”

Dorian laughed again, but this time it was louder and more... “evil”, U’Din supposed. That’s how he thought Sera would describe it, anyway. “Oh, _thank you_ for reminding me! That was indeed superb; the true highlight of the night! Bless you, Inquisitor, for causing such a moment to exist!”

“Maker preserve me.” Blackwall groaned and wiped his face with his palms. Dorian, however, just kept on laughing. Varric wasn’t laughing as loud, but from the way his shoulders convulsed, U’Din could tell that he was trying _very_ hard not to laugh so much.

He watched the exchange among them with a puzzled and slightly irritated look. What they were discussing was obviously about him and what he, apparently, did, but it both annoyed and terrified him that their words were going over his head. What the heck was Dorian talking about? What did “plea—“ mean? And Varric mentioned Solas—did he do anything to his friend?

“What happened to Solas? Did I hurt him?” He asked Varric with a desperate expression on his face. “I hope I didn’t do anything to hahren! I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I hurt him!”

Dorian snorted. “Yes, he’s probably hurting right now. But most likely not as much as he was hurting last night. If you know what I mean, hmhm.”

Varric slapped his knee. “Oh, good one, Pavus! Though I got a hand it to Chuckles; he’s a man with a _lot_ of self control.”

“Oh, yes! If I had been in his position, I probably wouldn’t have held back at all. Lucky man, that Solas.” Dorian joked, and then wiggled his eyebrows at a very befuddled (and disturbed and nauseous and _hungry_ ) U’Din.

“Oh for crying out loud—“ Blackwall pushed back his chair suddenly, startling the poor Inquisitor. He stood up and grabbed his plate. “I’m out of here. Not listening to you nutty folks talk about _that_.”

Dorian made a little wave as Blackwall grumbled his way out. “Goodbye, good ser Blackwall! Your company will be _surely_ missed! And by that I mean not at all.”

U’Din made a face at his yet-to-be-filled plate. He twirled his ponytail in his hands and looked at his two companions. “Seriously, though. I don’t want to be responsible for hurting hahren. Is he okay?”

“Maker, it really annoys me that I can’t make fun of you without feeling like a complete villain in the end.” Dorian sighed and held a hand to his heart. “Your purity is both a strength and a weakness, Inquisitor. You truly are a formidable one.”

“Well, apparently Willow isn’t as _pure_ as we thought.” Varric commented with a cheeky grin. Before U’Din could ask, the dwarf turned to him and said, “Anyway, it’ll probably come back to you eventually. Maybe. I dunno, it’s probably even best that you don’t know. But for now, why don’t you eat? You need some sugar in you, I bet.”

The blond frowned. Leliana said that, too. But his stomach rumbled before he could even mention it, and U’Din braced himself for another bout of nausea. When none came, he sighed in relief and started filling his plate with food. Hmph, whatever. He could always ask someone else later, preferably Solas himself. _He_ wouldn’t keep secrets from U’Din, unlike these two.

But for now, food. Oh, they served those soft potatoes today!

 

* * *

 

After lunch, U’Din felt slightly better, though his head still throbbed painfully. He followed through his decision to ask Solas what happened the night before, but when he visited his usual place, the older elf was nowhere to be found. U’Din wondered where he could have gone; Solas rarely went out. Unless it was to get some fresh air and sunlight.

He walked out of the door from Solas’ haunt and leaned over the ledge. The usual merchants were there, and so were some of their new recruits and other agents. But no Solas. U’Din sighed and decided to visit the tavern. There was an off chance that his hahren could be there, but still a chance nevertheless. He _really_ just wanted to know what happened, and maybe he can apologize to the man too while he was at it.

On his way down, he was greeted with the usual: Inquisitor, Your Worship. Titles that _still_ bothered U’Din up until now, and he’s been the Inquisitor for a little over a year now. Some soldiers, however, hesitated before greeting him. Some even... smiled at him strangely. Scout Harding even choked on something upon seeing him. That just added a whole lot more confusion, along with added anxiety and paranoia.

What the heck did he _do_ last night?!

He saw Cassandra standing by the dummies, and he made a last-minute decision to speak to her first. She scared him, but U’Din knew that she was a no-nonsense person. She would take his inquiry seriously, he was sure.

“Good afternoon, Lady Cassandra.” He greeted the warrior politely. He expected her to greet him the usual way she did: a curt, but friendly not along with a question about the status of things. He did _not_ expect her to do a double take upon seeing him and stare at him like he had grown an extra head.

He frowned. Okay, now he really knew something was up if even Cassandra looked at him like that.

“I-Inquisitor. I— _Good afternoon_.” She said, clearing her throat in an attempt to make her sound more collected. U’Din wondered why she even had to try in the first place. “I trust that you are well? You—That is, I heard Leliana checked up on you. Said that you had become ill when you woke.”

He nodded. “My head still hurts, but I’m fine now. I apologize for sleeping in, Lady Cassandra. I know I shouldn’t have done that—“

“Nonsense. You had to rest. After you—well, after what happened last night, I can imagine that you had quite the headache when you woke up.”

“Um, yes, about that,” U’Din began; the corner of his mouth sinking. “I don’t suppose that you could tell me what happened last night? That is, if it’s okay. It’s just—I tried asking Lady Leliana, Mr. Varric and Lord Dorian, but they wouldn’t tell me a thing. I’m really confused and worried because, from what I could tell, it had something to do with Solas.”

Cassandra made a choking noise, something that completely threw U’Din off. The warrior blushed and looked away, hiding her mouth behind her fist.

“You mean you do not recall?” She asked, perplexed. “But when you woke up, shouldn’t you have...?”

U’Din furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, Lady Cassandra? I don’t remember anything. I just woke up with a huge headache. When the others refused to tell me what happened, I went to look for Solas instead. But so far I haven’t seen him yet.”

“You’re looking for Solas?” She asked. “But shouldn’t he have been... with you?”

The blond’s expression didn’t change. “Why is that, Lady Cassandra? Were we supposed to do something together?”

Cassandra opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She stayed quiet for a few moments before her eyes widened and her face reddened. She cleared her throat again and turned away from the elven Inquisitor.

“I just remembered that I am needed elsewhere at the moment, Inquisitor. I regret that I may have to leave you for now.” She began. “My advice is needed by... someone. Cullen. Yes, Cullen. Commander Cullen needs my advice on something. So I should probably go. Right now.”

She walked away, and the blond could only watch her go with a helpless expression, reaching out to her ineffectively. He sighed and hung his head.

Oh, well. Maybe he’d have more luck in the tavern.

 

* * *

 

“PFFFFTHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Or not.

U’Din groaned as Sera’s boisterous laugh hit him the moment he stepped inside the tavern. He could only watch helplessly as the elven archer laughed and pointed at him. “Look who’s decided to show his face! Didn’t know you had it in ya to be back so soon!”

“P-Pardon me?” He said, reluctantly approaching her at the foot of the stairs. He did his best to ignore the other patrons watching and whispering.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Droopy! You know what I’m talking about!” She snorted, but the look on his face made her pause. “Or maybe you don’t. Shite, you forgot?! How am I supposed to make fun of you for something you did but can’t remember?! _Piss_!”

U’Din groaned, both from the headache (amplified by Sera’s... well, just Sera) and the embarrassment. He looked around briefly before speaking, “Sera, I’m happy that you seem to be taking pleasure from my pain, but—“

“Oy, big guy! _Bull_!” Sera called over her shoulder and waved the Qunari over. “Get your big arse over here! Droopy doesn’t remember anything from last night! Sucks balls!”

Iron Bull, who had been content watching from his spot in the tavern, chuckled and stood up to walk over to them. “I wouldn’t be surprised. He went out like a candlelight after his little... _performance_.” He said cryptically. To U’Din, anyway. Bull looked at the Inquisitor and smirked. “Hey, boss. Glad you’re up. You feelin’ okay?”

U’Din scratched his head. “I have a huge headache and can’t remember anything from last night. Which is apparently a big deal. So no, I guess I’m not okay.”

The Qunari let out a hearty laugh. “Ha, you sure are a riot, boss! But I wouldn’t be surprised about the headache; Maraas-Lok is strong, but apparently it was too strong for you. I thought you’d be able to handle it when you said that you could. But I suppose you were already quite inebriated at the time.”

U’Din blinked. _Inebriated_? Did that mean... “I was drunk?”

“More like _shitfaced_ , hahahahahahaha!” Sera laughed at his expense, completely missing the scowl directed at her. “But that was nothin’ compared to _baldy’s_ face. His eyes went _so big_ I thought they were going to pop out of his sockets!”

“I would have _probably_ done something similar if it had been me.” Bull said, looking contemplative. Then he grinned in the Inquisitor’s direction. “You have some pretty nice moves, boss. Wouldn’t expect that from someone like you.”

“What _did_ I do? And what does that have anything to do with Solas?” The blond despaired, looking at them desperately. “I’m so confused! Can you _please_ tell me what happened? I beg you!”

“Nuh-uh, _not_ explaining shite to you, Droopy.” Sera said, sticking her tongue out at him. “I’d gladly spread it around, but if you don’t remember, I’m not telling you nothin’, nope!”

Spread it around? U’Din’s eyes widened. “You _told_ people? No wonder everyone’s looking at me strangely! _Sera_ —“

“Uh-oh, Droopy turning into _Thorny_!” Sera said jeeringly. She started running out of the tavern. “Catch me if you can, Droopy! I might let you give me an arse jig if you do, hahahahahahaha!”

The blond watched as Sera cackled her way out of the tavern, and he was _tempted_ to chase her just to get answers. But his head hurt, his body felt sluggish. And what the _hell_ was an arse jig? He was about to ask the Iron Bull when—

He did a double take and looked around. Where’d he go? He groaned in frustration and walked out of the tavern. Some friends _he_ had.

 

* * *

 

U’Din was _not_ having a good day. The meeting with the advisors was apparently just about what color his formal attire should be when he attends the Winter Palace (something that he was _so_ not looking forward to. He might have to run away soon), and whether or not they should use King’s Willow Weave or Plush Fustian Velvet to make his outfit. U’Din looked at Josephine’s shiny, gold-colored outfit and made a small noise; for some reason, he had an aversion to gold. Couldn’t he just use Dragon Webbing or Darkened Samite instead?

So he left the War Room feeling very tired, as well as very irritable. The headache diminished slightly, but it was still pretty much there. If he had to explain it, his headache from when he woke up was like standing next to a hyper Sera, and the headache he had now was like seeing Sera be a hyper from twenty feet away. Not as bad as standing next to her per se, but... U’Din shook his head. Why was he using _Sera_ to describe his headache?

He was about to go up to his room and sleep the rest of his life away when something cold hit his neck. Oh, he _knew_ who that was.

“Boiling, brimming with a burning desire. A taste so tantalizing, tempting—telling me to try. I see him sitting and staring and I thought, _now_. So I stood up, sat—“

“Cole?” U’Din turned to where the spirit was standing. He wouldn’t have thought much of his sudden appearance (he tended to do that a lot; the blond got used to it already), but there was something in the way Cole looked at him that made him feel... anxious. “Did you need something?”

“Yes. _You_ can help.” The spirit said, straightforward as ever. Before U’Din could react, he reached to grab his wrist and started pulling him away from his quarters. “This way.”

“C- _Cole_?” The blond asked, but the spirit did not answer him. Curious about his spirit friend’s behavior, U’Din let him pull him away... until he realized where _exactly_ the spirit was taking him.

He was taking him to Solas. But hahren wasn’t there, right? He believed this until he saw the older elf’s back facing him; slouched over a table. The man looked like he was reading but something felt... off about his aura. U’Din gulped; could it be because of... what he did? Oh fuck, maybe he _did_ do something to Solas!

“It’s not your fault.” Cole whispered soothingly to him. “What you did was something that you _really_ wanted to do. You don’t have to feel ashamed or afraid!”

“Cole, I thought I told you that this isn’t something that you can help me with?” U’Din was surprised to hear Solas answer in his stead, though that was probably because Solas didn’t know that Cole’s comment wasn’t for _him_.

“I can’t. But I brought someone who _can_!” Cole said happily, letting go of U’Din’s wrist. “The only person who can!”

“Cole, what are you—“ Solas turned, and upon seeing U’Din his eyes went wide. He immediately stood up. “I-Inquisitor! I did not realize—“

“T-That’s okay!” U’Din laughed nervously, waving his hands in front of him. “I mean, I think _I_ should be apologizing to you, hahren. I apparently did something to you last night, so you may not want to see me at all—“

“ _Apparently_? You mean you do not... remember?”

“N-No. No, I don’t. Sorry, hahren.” U’Din bowed slightly. “Err, what _did_ I do? I’ve asked the others but all they did was avoid answering me or laugh at me! Madam Vivenne even patted me on the head and said, _“oh, poor dear.”_ What’s going on? What did I do?”

Cole went into a dazed state. “Standing, striding towards him. Asks me what was wrong, and then I tell him to enjoy, be entertained, _enraptured_. Started slow, then picked up the pace and turned around to—“

“ _Cole,_ desist!” Solas interjected frantically. U’Din turned to see the hedge mage sweating, shaking and even... blushing? The blond slapped himself; no, hahren didn’t blush. He got... hot? Wait, that was wrong—

“Hot, hungry, _hahren._ He calls me hahren, then looks at me through long lashes, with lucid lust in those violet voids. His skin stretches over mine, clothes crumpling and creasing but what could it be _without_? Then he turns, throws his head back and starts to—“

“Cole, please!” Solas begged, then almost tripped over the foot of his chair when he moved to approach them. He breathed heavily and told the spirit, “C-Cole, all right. I understand what your intentions are, just—please, if you would be so kind as to give us... privacy? The Inquisitor and I need to speak.”

Cole looked happy at the thought of Solas and U’Din talking. Why, the blond wasn’t sure, but the spirit did mention him being able to help Solas in some way. Cole beamed at the two of them. “Will you two help each other, then? You both need a bit of help, and I’m afraid I can’t really do anything about it. You require very... _specific_ things.”

U’Din looked confused. Solas took in a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. “Y-Yes. It would help more if you leave us alone for now. Th... Thank you.”

With a nod, Cole vanished into thin air. U’Din looked around, mostly because of habit, but then Solas started looking absolutely distraught. That worried U’Din; he didn’t like seeing his friend that way. He approached him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hahren?” He began. Then he looked at the ground and sighed. “Whatever I did last night, I hope you would forgive me for it. I... most likely wasn’t myself, therefore—“

“N-No. It’s fine. It’s—absolutely _fine_ , v—lethallin.” Solas cleared his throat and looked away, and it almost looked like he blushed again. But again, U’Din thought that was silly. “You weren’t—You didn’t do anything wrong last night, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

The blond looked skeptical. “Really? No one has explained it, but they made it _very_ clear that I did something to you, hahren. I... won’t be able to forgive myself if I caused you pain. You’re... special to me, hahren.”

Solas looked at a loss for words. He placed his hand over his mouth and looked contemplatively at the floor, then back up at U’Din. Both their eyes met; steely, electric blue met vivid violet. Blue looked away first.

“I—“ He paused to clear his throat. He looked red again, and U’Din was starting to worry that he was getting sick. “You are... special to me too, U’Din. You are not what I expected, far from it, and you have gained my full support and trust. Right now you are my closest and most valued friend.”

U’Din smiled, though he still looked nervous as he twirled his hair between his fingers. “S-So what _did_ I do? If I didn’t offend or hurt you last night, what’s everyone talking about?”

“You—“ Solas began, but cut himself off. He looked away from the Inquisitor’s eyes in favor of focusing on... other parts of his body. When he realized what he was doing, he snapped his eyes back up to U’Din’s and said, “Y-You did nothing. The others are just... pulling a prank on you. They thought to take advantage of your inebriated state by pretending that you had committed a transgression towards me. It was Sera’s idea.”

“ _Lies~_!” A voice from above sing-songed, and Solas glared up at the second floor briefly before looking gentle in front of U’Din again.

“I-In any case, please don’t dwell on it too much, lethallin. What you did was... inconsequential. Trivial. Yes, it doesn’t merit too much thought.” He said, smiling at U’Din in the same way that just took the blond’s breath away for some reason.

The Inquisitor placed a hand over his heart and felt it beating rapidly. Oh, he must be coming down with something. A fever? He _was_ getting lightheaded, too. Maybe he should tell Solas that he needed to go to bed.

Solas. Bed. _Need_. He shook his head and slapped himself.

“Inquisitor?” Solas asked, worried. “Are you—“

“N-No, I’m fine! I’m just... getting dizzy again. Stupid headache, is all.” U’Din lied partially, laughing nervously. He started backing away. “S-So, I really didn’t do anything to you, right? Nothing bad at all?”

Solas chuckled in that _hmhm_ way that U’Din could listen to all day. The hedge mage shook his head. “No, U’Din. You needn’t worry about that at all.”

“O-Okay. I should... probably go to bed now.” U’Din said, looking over his shoulder. He missed the way Solas reddened at the word “bed.” The Inquisitor bowed to his hahren before saying, “I-It was nice talking to you about it, though! But it’s always nice talking to you. I mean, _of course_ it is! Um, okay, I’m going now. Bye, hahren!” U’Din did another bow before turning and leaving slowly, as if afraid that any sudden movements would change his friend’s mood for the worse.

With his back turned to Solas, he was unaware of the older elf focusing on a certain... _ass_ et of his. The older elf then looked at his lap, recalling a memory the Inquisitor did not have. He groaned and shuddered, stepping back until he hit the edge of his desk. He didn’t breathe properly until the Inquisitor was completely gone, and he glared up when he heard mocking laughter coming from the second floor.

“Bunch of asses.” He muttered under his breath.

“Oh, _you_ would know all about asses, my elven friend!”

Dorian’s laughs echoed throughout the tower, effectively overwhelming Solas’ irritated and frustrated groans. Oh, just they wait until he got his orb back...

**Author's Note:**

> This is why you shouldn't let your best friends play god-awful music while you're obsessed over an OTP. And why you shouldn't listen when they say, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if your character did _THIS_?" OTL Oh God. =))) I don't know if the title makes it obvious or not what U'Din did, but can anyone guess what it is? :))))))) HAHAHAHAHA POOR SOLAS.
> 
> Again, this is COMPLETELY unrelated to my on-going series. But I had to write it because the idea just wouldn't go away OTL Sorry for wasting your time :)))) But I hope you like this trash, huhu.


End file.
